Dollhouse
by AberforthDumbledore090
Summary: The Research and Development of spells has always been dangerous, one day Hermione gets strangely affected. What lengths will Harry go to to help his friend?


For the entirety of her adult life Hermione had been forced to endure jokes about her height, but this was ridiculous. She scowled at the small mirror that that Luna held up for her. Working in Spell Research and Development for The Department of Mysteries was fun and exciting, usually, but at the moment Hermione wished she had accepted the internship from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

"It's not that bad, really." Luna's head tilted to one side as she observed Hermione's new look.

"Not that bad? _Not that bad!_ Luna, look at me!" Hermione shrieked in a high, thin voice and waved her hands helplessly. "I'm positively Lilliputian!"

"Well there is that," Luna admitted. "Would you like to ride in my pocket up to the infirmary?"

Hermione glared up at Luna. "Do I have a choice?"

Luna smirked at her. "Not really, no."

Being inside Luna's pocket was rather like being in the pocket of a 9-year-old boy. There were a couple pretty stones, a bottlecap, a radish, a spare quill, a small bag of what Hermione suspected might be Peruvian Instant Darkness powder, and a length of string that seemed to glow slightly and made Hermione nervous. She tried to perch on the larger of the two stones and clung with determination to the inside of Luna's pocket.

"Miss Lovegood."

The slight hesitancy in the Healer's voice would have amused Hermione at any other time.

"Healer Johnson," Luna greeted the Healer cheerfully. "I've brought Hermione to you."

"Er, have you?" The Healer sounded even more wary now. "Is she, er, Miss Granger have you been working with invisibility spells again?" The Healer called out.

"No," Luna replied. "Shrinking spells." She pulled Hermione out of her pocket and held her out in the palm of her hand.

The Healer stared down at her in fascinated horror. "Merlin," he whispered.

Hermione glared up at him. "Please tell me you can fix this," she demanded in her new high voice, but the Healer was already shaking his head.

"Miss Granger, we are able to repair a great deal of the damage incurred by the Research and Development Department, but this… we'll have to wait and see if it wears off," the Healer explained.

"Wait until it wears off?" Hermione's voice became a high-pitched shriek that caused Healer Johnson and Luna to wince. "I'm three inches tall! What am I supposed to do?"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"No. Absolutely not," Hermione ranted furiously. "This is ridiculous!"

Fred and George looked at one another and turned back to Hermione. "But we followed the instructions exactly."

Hermione growled, but she sounded like a small kitten. Then she sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. "I'm sorry. It's fine—you've obviously made it quite carefully. It's just that it's a _dollhouse_. I'm not a doll, I'm a human being."

"You may be human, but you're a wee human," George reminded her gently.

"We've enchanted the dollhouse so that everything works. You'll be able to use the bathroom and the kitchen. Mum's made you a tiny bed and she's shrunk some of your clothes," Fred added.

Hermione moaned in frustration.

George knelt so that he could see Hermione a little better. "This is just until it wears off, Hermione."

"Right," Fred agreed. "And how long could that possibly take?"

"The Healer thinks it might be a couple of days," Hermione admitted.

"See?" George gave her a cheeky grin. "You'll be back to terrorizing interns in no time."

"I do not terrorize the interns," Hermione retorted stiffly.

Fred snorted. "That's not how Luna tells it."

Hermione sniffed. "Luna scares them more than I do."

"Come on, Granger. Let's show you how this thing works." George tried to direct her back to the dollhouse. "Thank goodness your wand shrunk along with you."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Six long, lonely months later and Hermione had grown used to her dollhouse. Fred and George had constructed it carefully with her in mind. Nothing was fake or pasted on. Everything was an exact miniature. The library alone had made her imposed exile somewhat bearable. Her friends tried to visit when they could, but it was difficult to hang out when Hermione had to be carried everywhere.

Looking back, she supposed that Ron had held out as long as he could, but the Healers were beginning to think that this might be her permanent condition. They hadn't been able to kiss, or hug, or do anything for six months. Ron was only 23, and he had a fairly healthy libido. So did Hermione for that matter and she was no happier than he was about her current height, but there was nothing she could do about it. Still, she couldn't blame Ron for wanting to be able to hold hands with his girlfriend.

"How are you holding up?" Harry asked quietly.

Hermione looked up from her spot curled up on the dollhouse's porch swing. She shrugged. "I'm fine, I suppose."

"You know what I miss the most?" Harry looked over at her expectantly.

Hermione shook her head.

"Hermione hugs." Harry gave her a crooked smile. "There's just no substitute."

"I miss the way that you smelled when I hugged you," Hermione confided. "Like broom polish and parchment."

Harry laughed at that. "All the glamour of being an Auror—they just neglect to tell you that it's paperwork and training exercises."

"Harry… what if I'm stuck like this forever?" Hermione gave a hiccupping sob.

Harry reached out and carefully stroked her hair with one gentle finger. "Then Fred and George will have to build you a little lab to hook onto your house."

"It's not funny!" Hermione cried angrily and swatted at his finger with one tiny hand. "I'll end up living in this stupid dollhouse until I _die_!"

"Hermione, what's going on in that amazing brain of yours?" Harry asked.

"I'll never get married, or have children, or any of that," Hermione was sobbing now. "How could I?"

Harry watched his best friend helplessly. He tried to pat her back with one finger, but it wasn't the same as holding her. The thought of never being able to hold her in his arms ever again made his chest ache. The idea that she would never be able to punch in the arm or hit him over the head with a book made him immeasurably sad. A world without Hermione as an active, bossy part of it seemed hollow and false.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 _6 months later_

"She's just sulking," Ron stated dismissively.

Harry glared at Ron. "Mate, please don't take this the wrong way… but this isn't about you."

Ron frowned at Harry. "She was my girlfriend. We broke up. Now she's heard that I'm going to marry Susan Bones, and she's refused to come out of that little lab that Fred and George made for her for a week."

"Ron… she's trying to figure out how to reverse the shrinking," Harry explained quietly. "It isn't that _you_ are getting married. It's more that she'd like to marry _someone_ someday."

Ron blinked at him in surprise. He paled and then a dull flush suffused his cheeks. "I hadn't… I didn't think of that," he admitted. Guilt and contrition filled his face. "Merlin, poor Hermione."

"Don't," Harry protested. "Don't say that, especially to her. She doesn't want your pity."

"No, she wouldn't, would she?" Ron muttered. He gave a sharp little bark of laughter and shook his head. "I hope she figures it out, Harry. I really do."

"I know." Harry patted Ron on the shoulder. It still bothered him that he could do this for Ron, but he couldn't for Hermione. He knew that she was hurting, but he could offer her nothing except his words.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Nothing had worked. Hermione fought to keep her composure, but a hysterical bubble was trying to work its way out. She wanted to scream, to cry, to laugh. A year later and she was still only three inches high. Alice had known the truth—three inches _was_ a wretched height to be. Perhaps if she had someone to spend her time with it mightn't have been that bad. She couldn't even pet Crookshanks, for Merlin's sake! He would probably mistake her for a kneazle treat.

A sharp knock at her lab door intruded on her thoughts. "Come in," she called absently. Then she froze.

Whenever anyone came to visit they called to her. Their bigger voices were so loud that she could hear them wherever she was. No one ever knocked. If they tried to it made her whole house shake, and she had forbidden it when the twins had given her the tiny lab. She had been terrified that the knocking would jostle potions or experiments creating an explosion or some sort of chemical reaction. She ran to the door and opened it with shaking fingers. Standing in her doorway was Harry. _Harry_. She was hugging him before she had time to register who he was. He relaxed into her embrace and hugged her back tightly.

"I missed this so much," he whispered into her hair.

Hermione pulled back and frowned up at him. "You're my height," she accused.

Harry grinned at her. "Not exactly. I'm actually about 3 ¾" tall," he informed her loftily.

"What did you do?" Hermione demanded.

"I didn't do anything," Harry retorted. He grinned at her again. "Luna did."

"Luna shrank you?" Hermione stared at him. "But… they think that this," she gestured between them, "is permanent."

"I know," Harry replied with a solemn expression. "I was there when they told Luna. Hermione, the thought of never being able to touch you ever again was terrifying. To never have another Hermione Hug ever… the idea gutted me. It just took me a little while to figure out what that meant, and when I finally did figure it out I went to Luna."

"What are you saying?" Hermione whispered.

"I'm saying that I want to be with you. That if this is the only way that can happen… then so be it." Harry whispered back.

Hermione stared at him for several long minutes. Maybe if she stared into those brilliant green eyes long enough what he was saying would make sense. "You want to live here with me?" She asked finally.

"I was hoping you'd let me stay here," Harry admitted. "If not then Fred and George promised to make me my own house."

"Harry… do you realize what you've done?" Hermione demanded.

Harry's green eyes glinted. "An amazingly romantic gesture of undying love?" He hazarded with a lop-sided grin.

Hermione smacked him on the arm. "You prat."

"A _lovable_ prat?" Harry asked hopefully.

Hermione huffed. "What am I going to do with you Harry Potter?" She demanded with her hands on her hips.

"I have a list of suggestions from Luna," Harry replied with a guileless expression that didn't fool Hermione. She blushed furiously. "Or we could just have tea?"

"Tea," Hermione agreed. She grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the dollhouse. He followed willingly with a small smile curving his lips. "Definitely tea," she repeated to herself.

"Then we can look at the list," Harry suggested and the small smile turned into a wicked smirk.

"Harry!"

 _ **Slutet**_


End file.
